


Wingaersheek Beach

by Jaetion



Series: Love That Dirty Water [6]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Not Beta Read, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Tumblr Prompt, for Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 19:16:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17793188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaetion/pseuds/Jaetion
Summary: Tumblr prompt: staring at the other’s lips, trying not to kiss them, before giving in





	Wingaersheek Beach

2289, north of Salem

\---

Behind them the of construction at the Coastal Cottage banged on, but washing over the noise of hammers, of saws, of shouted instruction were the sounds of the oceans. The waves rolled steadily onto the beach, dragging sand in a constant hush.

Marcos sighed happily. His eyes were closed against the sun and so Danse could engage in a covert examination. Not that he could look at the other man as much as he liked. In fact Marcos seemed to preen under the attention. Danse had never realized how intimate a simple look could be until Marcos had become his… partner? Boyfriend? “Soldier” was still his favorite epithet; perhaps that was an indication of how much further he (they) still needed to go. 

They were both tall enough that they often towered over others; Danse could sweep his gaze over a crowd to find him and Marcos would smile back - a moment of privacy despite the people. Or watching him as he moved; even loading a gun, quick, efficient movements. The way his shoulders squared when he was in uniform or sloped when he was at home. Danse lingered on those shoulders before lifting up to Goose’s face. And then back down, from forehead past his eyes - closed, his lashes resting on his cheek - down the edge of his nose. Crooked from being broken, but not enough to detract from his attractiveness. And he was - God, was he attractive. Handsome - a word that had slipped out of Danse’s vocabulary for a long time. His strong shoulders and long legs, his broad chest and chest hair that trailed down to the waistband of his pants. 

Of which Danse currently had a view - Marcos had folded his arms behind his head, which had pulled up his t-shirt. Ripped and paint-stained, his jeans were much more wastelander than Sentinel, but even out of his uniform there was still an air of his prowess. Danse’s eyes lingered there until he tore his gaze away, looking back out over the water. For approximately thirty seconds. And then it was back to the man beside him.

“Good thing about being in the army: body was always beach ready. Well, varying degrees of beach ready. I loved coming over here. Put the radio on, have some beers, swim when you get hot… ” He grinned at the memory, eyes still closed. “Fall asleep, get a bad sunburn, swear that it’d be different next summer.”

“Certainly is different now,” Danse commented. Marcos' anecdotes sometimes seemed to be of a different world entirely, not just Massachusetts from a different time. The Commonwealth that Danse had scouted eighteen months prior had been deadly to too many men on his squad. Wild. Barren. But somehow that Commonwealth was dissipating, something else was taking its place.

Propped up on one arm, he leaned closer to Marcos to study him. There were strands of gold and copper in his hair, more evident in the sun. As always there was at least a few days’ worth of stubble over the man’s cheeks, jaw, and throat. He was lucky the Brotherhood wasn’t as stringent about appearances as the army had been. Like his hair, there were flashes of other colors in the bristles. Danse wondered how Marcos' jawline would feel under his thumb. It wasn’t just the feel of him that Danse wanted to explore. The sounds he’d make. The taste of him. What he would look like when kissed. Danse had requested they move slow, and the pace had suited them both. After the Brotherhood, after the synths, after Shaun, after the Institute - What they’d needed was comfort. Now, however…

Or perhaps he’d reached the wrong conclusion. Danse pulled back and tried to content himself with scrutiny. As if he could find the answer in the curve of Marcos' lips. 

“I bet you would’ve liked it more in the evening. Families and drunk college students went home, everything got peaceful. You could still hear the city and there was always music from somewhere, but mostly it was quiet. Just the sea. You could walk along the water looking for shells then. Or beach glass. Or crabs. Crabs - Not Mirelurks. Stand in the water and let the waves pull the sand out from under your feet.”

“I think I would’ve liked that,” Danse murmured. He watched Marcos' lips turn up again, the glint of his teeth as he smiled.

Marcos' wide mouth was expressive, and it was easy to track his moods through the flash of his smiles. There was the blandly pleasant one that matched his overall geniality even in the face of discourse, the sharp one for when he dodged a riposte, and the two that Danse had begun to see more frequently: the wicked one that accompanied his quiet teasing and its opposite, the fond one that softened his hawkish face. 

Danse came to a sudden and satisfying conclusion: They were men of action. And sometimes the risks were worth it.

“We’ll do it. It’s already safer now, and once more settlers come in, they’ll be enough people for a decent watch. I want to show Shaun all of this. And teach him how to swim. Go fishing. And then you and me, Danse -”

There was sand on his fingers, so when he slid his hand along the straight line of Marcos' jaw, it pattered down everywhere. Marcos' eyes flew open and his lips parted - but that was all he had time to do, or all Danse saw from beneath his lowered lashes before he kissed him. 

A first kiss. The first kiss. Their kiss.

It wasn’t possible to compute it all - The scruff under Danse’s palm was soft as he imagined, the jawline hard, there was a taste of salt from the beach’s briny air, a slight scrape from Marcos chapped lips, but mostly there was warmth and specifically a warmth that was turning into heat and then when Marcos tilted his chin a bit, that heat turned nuclear. The waves crashed or maybe that was the sound of his heart. 

Dizzily he pulled back and breathed a chuckle. He had to scrub over his eyes to get them back into focus, get the world back into place. When he looked back down at Marcos, he had a new smile: one eager with pleasure. And Danse returned it, immediately, wildly.

He brushed the pad of his thumb under Marcos’ bottom lip and left a few more grains of sand there. "Thank you," he said and Marcos laughed as he sat up.

"You kissed me, Danse. So thank _you_."

"So, fishing?"

"Fishing," Marcos agreed amiably. He covered Danse's hand with his own, getting more sand everywhere. They were going to have to take a hell of a shower, Danse thought and then had to clear his throat. Marcos glanced at him, and there was that tender smile. "And whatever else you want to do."


End file.
